Showers
by Edward222
Summary: Harry takes a hot shower in the locker room after winning the Quidditch match. He's completely relaxed when he senses someone watching him...a very peculiar someone.
1. Locker room

Showers

**Showers**

By: Edward222

It was late by the time Harry finished Quidditch practice. It was even later still when he decided that he'd had enough of flying. Even exhausted from worry about Voldemort and NEWTS and girls and Quidditch and his parents and the Dursleys and... everything else in his life that seemed to be a bloody sodding mess right now, Harry was never too tired for the simple pleasure of flying.

He landed softly and dismounted, his muscles aching in a familiar yet satisfying way as walked over to the change rooms. The water was hot and it stung his skin and Harry leant into it as though it could cleanse him of all the fear and doubt that seemed to cloud his mind whenever he was not flying. He felt untouchable up there among the clouds, as though the worries of the world were not his own, as though he could be anything, do anything, as long as he could keep his feet firmly off the ground.

But like all pleasurable things, flying was a treacherous lover and the moment of release could only ever be a transient one. Harry's feet had to eventually return to the ground.

Harry pressed his hands against the white tiles, liking the way the cool played out upon his palms and contrasted sharply with the heat pouring in torrents through his hair and down his shoulders. He tipped his face up to meet the water, arching with pleasure as the shower beat out a rhythm against his skin, massaging away the tension stored deep in his bones.

God, this was good and if he could just ignore that faint prickling feeling beneath his skin it would be even better. He might even be able to walk out of this shower and back into his life feeling completely relaxed. A thing that he had not been able to achieve in a good long while. But no the prickling sensation did not subside and Harry was starting to suspect that he knew the reason.

He was being watched.

Carefully, making it look like a stretch, Harry turned his head.

"Fuck!" he yelped, nearly sliding onto his arse amongst the slippery tiles and the soapsuds.

"Good evening to you too, Potter," drawled the figure in black leaning nonchalantly against the lockers on the far side of the room.

"Fuck, Malfoy. What the hell do you think you are doing?" Harry shut off the faucet with a snarl, launching out of the cubicle and fixing Draco with his best death stare which was weak admittedly even in the best of times but even more so now, with his hair dripping into his blurry vision and the streams of water cascading down his face.

Draco's gaze drifted over him like a caress and Harry suddenly felt very naked. Hell, he _was_ very naked. Far too naked to be having a confrontation with Malfoy.

Draco shrugged. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Harry grabbed his towel off the hook and wrapped it around his waist self-consciously, quickly wishing he'd brought another towel to wrap around his shoulders as Draco contentedly shifted his eyes up to play upon Harry's chest.

"I don't know, Malfoy, actually, I don't even want to know. I'm leaving."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "In your towel?"

"Yes, Malfoy, in my tow - oh, um..." Harry looked helplessly at his towel then over to the pile of rumpled clothes that was his uniform. Then he looked at Draco. Who smiled. And Harry was _not_ going to be getting changed in front of him under _any_ circumstances.

"It's funny isn't it," Draco said in a conversational tone. "They stick a whole bunch of sweaty, teenage boys in a hot steamy room together and they convieniently forget to put any doors on the cubicles. Not that I mind, mind you. Getting to watch you in the showers after a game sure does take the sting out of losing to you..."

"Shut it, Malfoy."

"...but it does make you wonder," Draco continued, blithely, "whether they actually expect any of us to turn out straight."

"Well _you _certainly didn't," Harry shot out angrily, wondering whether he should be more worried about the loaded nature of the conversation or about the fact that Draco was choosing to conduct it with him.

"No," Draco said simply, "I didn't."

Harry stared at him, mouth agape. "You're gay?" he blurted out, unable to stop himself.

"No, Potter, I'm not gay," Draco said, tiredly, staring at the floor, "I'm just not straight. There is a difference."

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean I thought it was a joke, sorry."

Draco stared at him a moment. To Harry's surprise, he gave a short, sharp laugh. "Trust you to think that sexuality is something to be sorry about."

Harry felt his brow crease. "That's not what I said or meant and you know it," he said angrily, turning away to fetch his robes off the floor. "Why are you telling me all this anyway? Shouldn't you be off having this little heart to heart with your Slytherin pals? Shouldn't you be - " Harry turned back and caught Draco looking at him intensely like... like a lover and the look sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"You don't know?" Draco said in that sardonic drawl that had cost Harry's fairly level-headed temper far too much over the years. "You honestly don't know, do you?"

Harry looked away, hoping he was reading the expression on Draco's face completely inaccurately. "It was you, wasn't it? Out there on the Quidditch pitch today?"

A faint flicker of surprise showed itself on Draco's face. "Yes."

"I thought I sensed a Disillusionment charm. You were watching me?" Harry's voice was not accusational.

Draco gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Jesus, Malfoy. How long have you been watching?"

Draco looked away. "A few years."

"A few - But why?"

"Think, Harry." The sharp, snide tone snapped back into Draco's voice. "I'm sure you can make an educated guess."

"What I meant was: why me? Fuck, Malfoy, we've been mortal bloody enemies for- "

"As long as we've known each other, yes." Draco gave him a measured look and Harry couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes were seeing more than they should be. "Didn't you ever wonder why you hated me so much? Why you couldn't stop hating me even though the feeling was exhausting?"

"No," Harry said very firmly.

"Not ever?" Draco prompted, a little more insistent.

"Not once."

"Potter, you nearly covered a length of parchment writing _I hate Draco Malfoy_ over and over. I watched you do it. Why would you spend so much time and energy on such a futile task?"

"I know what you're trying to imply, and it's so way off the mark it's not funny."

"Is it?"

"Dammit, Malfoy, I am not gay," Harry burst out heatedly.

"I never said that you were."

Harry practically screamed in frustration. "But you just - "

"But you are most certainly not straight."

"Argh, Draco, talking to you is like chasing the snitch. Just when I think I've got you pinned you managed to throw me completely. And then you smirk, yes, just like that, as though it's my fault that I'm so confused. And just so you know my sexuality is one thing that I'm _not_ confused about. I like girls. That makes me straight. See? No confusion."

Draco gave another one of his smirks and Harry had to fight the urge to smash his fist into it. "'The lady doth protest too much'"

"Draco, I have no idea what the hell that means and I am sure that I would not like it if I did. But listen to me now for I will only say this once. I am _straight_ but even if I weren't I would never be attracted to you."

"Why not?" Harry looked at Draco, wondering if he even knew how completely fucking insane he really was. "Come now, if we're going to play hypotheticals, let's play. If you were attracted to guys, why wouldn't I be at the top of your list?"

"God, Malfoy, you are a piece of bloody work, do you know that?" Harry shook his head. "If you don't know the answer to that question then I'm not sure that even Fred, George and a pair of bludgers would be blunt enough to beat it into you."

"Because we're enemies, then. That's the reason?"

"That's the very, very, _very_ condensed reason, yes."

"So what if we weren't."

"Malfoy, what are you asking? Do you even know what you're asking?"

There was no reply.

"I thought as much." Harry turned away, picking up his robes and trying to get into them without dislodging the towel.

"I know exactly what I'm asking, Potter. My problem is the fact that you don't seem to know the answer."

Harry swore and disentangled himself from his robes. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Me writing that I hate you all over a piece of parchment doesn't mean that I entertain any other feeling for you besides loathing. Me staring at you in class only indicates the likelyhood that you have a magical marker on your back saying 'kick me'. There is nothing that you or anyone else can do to change the fact that I despise you utterly. Now go, before I find my wand and hex you inside out."

Draco's eyes were suddenly very cold. "I'm a Malfoy, Potter. _You_ could never give _me_ an order I would obey, nor would your paltry attempt at a threat ever instill fear."

Harry felt his blood begin to run hot. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "You're not going to leave are you?" he asked with difficulty through a tightened jaw.

Smiling with his lips only, Draco cocked his brow in challenge. "No."

Harry was furious but this time Malfoy was not going to get the better of him.

"Fine."

With a flick of his wrist Harry dropped the towel, leaving it pooled somewhere at his feet. He stretched a little as he bent to get his shirt, allowing Draco to see the full play of muscles down his side and along his powerful arm. He heard Draco's breath hitch a little as he turned his back to him, sensing Draco's gaze shifting across his shoulder blades as he pulled the shirt on.

Harry turned back, deliberately leaving the shirt open. In a calculatingly casual move, Harry stretched an arm up to tousle the remaining drops of water from his hair. Then he looked across at Draco, standing frozen to the spot, his lips moist and his eyes drinking in every inch of Harry's skin. And Harry hated to admit it but damn, this felt good.

So Harry continued, watching Draco watch him and pulling on every bit of clothing as slowly and deliberately as he could manage.

When he was finished he gathered his things, intending to leave without saying another word. But when he looked up his eyes collided with Draco's and that suddenly all of his intentions flew out the window.

It shook him to no small extent that he had been the cause of this; the flush in his cheeks, the heat in his eyes and he wanted Draco to remember this. Remember that it was Harry Potter that made his knees grow weak and his breathing shallow. Remember that it was Harry Potter that could wipe his mind with a flick of a wrist.

Remember that it was Harry Potter that now pressed him to the wall and took his lips in a gentle kiss that sent a shiver through his body and drew a moan from his throat. That made his lips part and his muscles tense into an arch as Harry held him.

And Harry suddenly realised that one of them would most definitely remember this and he wasn't at all sure that it would be Draco bloody Malfoy.

_But he's a boy,_ screamed a voice from some portion of Harry's brain not completely enveloped by the feel of Draco's mouth, and was immediately silenced. _But he's Draco Malfoy,_ clamoured another and Harry groaned, wishing he could ignore that pertinent little piece of information and just Keep Kissing Draco Malfoy. But therein lay the very problem. Harry pulled away.

He gave Draco a look that dared him to say something, say anything, so that Harry could make him regret it. Draco didn't.

Snatching up his things, Harry moved towards the door, trying desperately to ignore the taste of Draco on his lips.

He almost missed the words that Draco whispered shakily at his leaving. "Enter confusion. Stage right."


	2. Room of Requirement

Somewhere and somehow, Draco had bumped into Harry when leaving the boy's room

Somewhere and somehow, Draco had bumped into Harry when leaving the boy's room. Harry was furious, because Draco had insulted his friends, again, in Potions while he was in the hospital wing helping someone. Harry said he needed to talk to Draco NOW, and the two of them met at the Room of Requirement at midnight. One insult led to another, and soon Harry had Draco pinned beneath him on the floor.

(Draco's point of view)

_Oh god_, he thought, biting his lip to stifle a moan. If he could've frozen the moment he would have; Harry's furious face looked mesmerizing in the firelight, and his knees were pinned firmly on either side of Draco's body. Just as Draco was beginning to enjoy it, Harry pulled away and stood.

"You're pathetic," Harry said, sitting by the fire.

"Oh, _I'm_ pathetic?" Draco said, straightening his robes and sitting up, furious at the loss of contact. "I'm not the one pinning people down immaturely!"

"Just go away," said Harry quietly, refusing to look at him.

Fury coursed through Draco's veins at Harry's casual dismissal. "No."

"GO AWAY!" Harry screamed, his voice echoing throughout the room.

Draco stood, fists clenched. He would _not_ leave.

"You fucking bastard," Draco said, as pulled Harry up by his robes.

Then, without thinking so as to stop himself from doing it, Draco pulled Harry into a harsh, coarse kiss.

It was as though time had frozen; Draco heard no sound and felt only his mouth crushed against Harry's for what felt like an eternity. Harry squirmed and tried to break free, but Draco held fast, pulling Harry to his chest, crushing him, and forcing him not to leave him alone with this unyielding ache. Draco's tongue found its way into Harry's mouth and he savored the taste and feel before he fell backwards.

"_Goddamn it_!" Harry said, his clothes and hair disheveled. He rubbed his lower lip with the back of his hand and looked at Draco as though he'd just sprouted two heads. "What the _hell_?"

Draco said nothing and crossed his arms.

"Well?" Harry demanded, still with that bewildered look on his face. "ANSWER ME!"

"No," Draco said, and shoved him to the floor, moaning audibly as Harry squirmed beneath him.

Harry's eyes found Draco's and they stared at one another for several moments, neither moving. Maybe it was because Draco had so forcefully and unexpectedly pinned him in this position, or maybe it was because Harry simply didn't want to fight anymore. Or maybe, just maybe, it was all that pent up rage and animosity finally coming to a head until both realized this..._this_ was what underscored everything between them.

Whatever the reason, Draco didn't care and didn't rationalize. He simply looked down at the boy pinned beneath him, looking helpless and tired, and smiled victoriously as he pulled Harry's cloak off and discarded his tie. Slowly, Draco removed his own cloak and tie, Harry's chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to regain his breath. His arms remained quite still and his face seemed fixed in a sort of silent confusion with a hint of curiosity.

Draco leaned down and whispered, "Don't fight," before covering Harry's mouth once again.

This time, Harry didn't protest. This time, their kiss wasn't coarse and rough, but open and curious. Draco felt his erection press against his trousers as he ran his hands down the length of Harry's torso, stopping just above his belt. A crackle emitted from the fireplace as he gingerly unfastened Harry's belt, his tongue still exploring and probing, tasting and wanting more. He unzipped Harry's trousers and as he reached to slip his hand into them, his insides exploded as Harry squirmed and moaned in his mouth, his hips suddenly rutting desperately against Draco's hand.

Smiling slightly, he slid his palm gently over Harry's erection before finally closing his hand and stroking slowly, yet deliberately.

"Shit," Harry cursed, his chin tilted towards the ceiling.

"Do you like that?" Draco breathed.

Harry nodded, his eyes closed.

"Say it," Draco demanded.

"Can't..." Harry began.

"Say it or I'll stop," Draco said, letting his rhythm slow.

"No…"

"Say it…you know you want to," Draco said, slowing his tempo even more.

He arched his back for further contact. "Yes!" Harry cried desperately, covering Draco's hand with his own. "Fucking, yes! It feels good!"

"How good?" Draco said, Harry's grip tightening.

"Really, really, good," Harry panted. "Really fucking amazing."

Draco smirked; pumping faster until Harry gripped him so tight Draco thought his wrist would break. Finally, Harry bucked hard into Draco's hand, grabbing fistfuls of his discarded robe, screaming imprecations as he came.

"Such a dirty mouth," Draco said, pulling his hand from Harry's trousers.

Harry said nothing, eyes still closed and chest heaving rapidly. Draco rolled his hips against Harry's thigh and thrust lightly, biting his lip and moaning loudly. He wanted more; wanted Harry to suck him off but knew that would be going much to far. Instead, he slid his hand into Harry's dark hair and tugged, thrusting his hips against his leg and biting his lip in pure, unadulterated bliss. He couldn't last long; not with the reality of what he was doing finally sinking in and Harry's hand kneading soft circles on his back.

If he'd been able, Draco would have held onto his erection and stayed like that forever, but he quickly felt his control slip and his insides tingle maddeningly. He thrust with an urgency that clearly demonstrated the complete loss of control filling his body and with one final, mighty thrust, he climaxed, groaning loudly and feeling a complete sense of bliss, the likes of which he hadn't been able to imagine. It was as though millennia worth of built up frustration had finally broken free. He opened his eyes, his surroundings blurry except for Harry's face. He looked at Draco for a moment, then pulled away and zipped up his trousers.

Draco rested on his elbows and watched as Harry straightened his shirt and put his tie on sloppily. _We aren't so different_, Draco thought, _you go off to save the world, while I just try to save myself. _

The fire crackled again and Harry leaned against the chair, his arms resting on his knees, gazing into the flames. Draco sat up, smoothed out his clothes and sat next to Harry, gazing into the fire as well. Neither spoke The time would come, Draco knew, when he would confide everything in Harry; things he'd never uttered to another soul. But this was not that time. Now was the time for them to become accustomed to each other in silence, the hardest part of overcoming any sort of awkwardness. Harry sighed and shifted slightly closer, his leg lightly pressed against Draco's; it was suddenly all Draco was aware of until the clock struck one o' clock. They both sighed and stood, walking towards the door.

Before Harry opened it, he turned to Draco and said, "I'll see you around."

And so they did.


	3. Chapter 3: AUTHORS NOTE

To my dearest fans,

As you all know, I am a die hard Harry Potter fan, and I LOVE reading HP fanfics. Now, I really want to start a collection of my HP FF favorites, but collecting those stories will take some time. I want to know if any of you want me to start a collection just like I did with Twilight. Give some feedback, and I always love suggestions, or even stories to add to my collection Twilight collection as well as the HP collection if you want. PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

Love always,

Edward222


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